


Client Relations

by yunitsa



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Canadian Shack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-08
Updated: 2012-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-29 05:25:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/316288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yunitsa/pseuds/yunitsa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“He’s an eccentric billionaire, Mike,” Harvey had said. “We do what he wants and we look happy about it.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Client Relations

“He’s an eccentric billionaire, Mike,” Harvey had said. “We do what he wants and we look happy about it.” He hadn’t been so great at the second part himself, though, when _meeting the client on his own turf_ turned out to mean over-nighting in a one-room hut somewhere north of Yellowknife.

Mike didn’t think it was so bad. It reminded him of going camping with his parents, when he’d been little – the sense of enclosure from the elements, cosier because it was so precarious, with the wind whistling along the shuttered windows. They had found some Tupperware boxes of stew in the chest freezer (Harvey hadn’t been amused at the suggestion that it was caribou meat) and heated it over the wood-burning stove, with a couple of beers between them. (And when Mike said _they_ , he meant _Mike,_ because it turned out Harvey didn’t know what to do with a fireplace that didn’t have an on switch.) Weird Canadian beer, but you couldn’t have everything.

He’d thought Harvey might insist on wearing a three-piece suit for the duration in defiance, so it was a surprise to see him in Harvard sweatpants and layers of expensive-looking thermals. He looked...softer. Even his hair was unbending a bit, falling forward over his face. Mike wondered if Harvey actually used gel on it or just intimidation tactics.

They’d gone over all the client’s files on the two plane-rides up, but Mike had them memorized by now and he knew that Harvey knew it. There was no electricity or phone signal out here. Donna could be calling them right now with an update on the case and they wouldn’t know about it. The world could be ending. The wind whistled a bit louder, and a pile of snow thudded down from an overhanging branch onto the roof.

Mike untucked a side of the blanket he’d had wrapped around his shoulders and cuddled up to Harvey, who turned out to be emitting more heat than the stove.

“What are you doing?” Harvey asked, in a flat voice that implied this was about ten times worse than Mike calling him _dude._

“We’re huddling for warmth,” Mike said contentedly. Later, he thought he might share the idea that huddling for warmth worked even better with clothes off – after all, it wasn’t every day you ended up with Harvey Specter thrown off his stride and dressed like a normal person, all to yourself in a Canadian shack. This was about as unintimidating an opening as he was ever likely to get, and Harvey hadn’t pulled away from him yet. “Relax; it’s _billable_.”


End file.
